


sengen week 2k19

by Miphan



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: M/M, sengen week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miphan/pseuds/Miphan
Summary: sengen week 2k1929/12 — candy (G) ✔️30/12 — cell phones (G) ✔️31/12 — stargazing (M) ✔️1/1 — soulmate au/first meeting (G) ✔️2/1 — supernatural/modern au (T) ✔️3/1— marriage (T) ✔️4/1— free day (T) ✔️
Relationships: Asagiri Gen/Ishigami Senkuu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 237
Collections: Sengen Week 2019-2020





	1. Candy

Gen is awake. 

He doesn’t remember the dream he had. It could have been anything, honestly-a memory of his life in the post-disaster world, getting eaten by one of the evolved species that roam the forest or swim in the river, the ship sinking before they can even board. 

Lights and cameras, focusing on him. The audience clapping with his entrance. Bowing. Straightening up. 

Senku, turning his way, his hair moving with the wind. Smiling at him. At someone else. At everyone. 

It could have been anything. It could have been dying. It could have been someone else dying. Regardless, he wakes up disoriented until the stars helpfully blink down at him and he recalls falling asleep next to Senku's barely passable telescope. 

Well, it certainly does its job if Senku's excitement every time he looks through it is any indication. He's like a child that received his first toy with it, his-their-Senku. 

Gen has seen him climbing up here before dawn, clothes messily put on and hair a tangled disaster that falls on his shoulders in small waves instead of rising above his head. Firelight setting his eyes ablaze, he climbs up the ladder to the makeshift observatory and comes back down before anyone wakes up. 

Maybe that's why Gen is here with a bowl of dried candy in his lap. Because he wants to be privy of those secret moments in-between. It's selfish. He knows it is. But he can't hold himself back anymore. 

(He has tried hard to do so, with partial successes here and there. There's a limit on the performances one can give with the same number.)

Gen squints at the stars, trying to make out any new constellations. (Not using Senku's telescope is the public opinion around here.) The little dots in the sky, larger than before, but still small, only form vague shapes in his eyes. As he sits and waits for Senku to arrive, fighting against that tiny voice in his head saying that he won't show up, he thinks that one day Senku will discover every new spatial body out there. He's the only one who can. 

There is a noise, barely there but present, as weight is pressed upon the observatory's ladder. Senku's sleep-mussed head appears  
from the hatch, followed by the rest of him. His voice is still bleary from sleep when he says, “Hey, Mentalist. What’s goin’ on?”

“Hi, Senku-chan,” Gen says in response, smiling and trying not to stare too hard. “I'm just eating some dried candy. Do you want some?”

Senku nods silently, even as his eyes momentarily flicker at the telescope at the center of the room. Gen still takes it as a win and shuffles to the side so Senku can have more space to settle into. Offering the bowl with a slight smile, he watches as Senku takes his pick of the sugary fruit (tasting before shoving it in his mouth), then sets the bowl in easy reach between them. 

Leaning forward to say something, he's greeted by Senku's intense red eyes staring at him with a strand of hair falling down between them. It takes all of Gen's will to not brush it away, push it behind a delicate ear, his fingers lingering on Senku's cheek as he pulls away. Senku breaks their eye contact first and doesn't have to ask anything again. He knows already. 

He knows, and he stays.


	2. Cell phones

Everyone knows that the third floor of the reception center is practically never used. There are auditoriums on the second floor that have the capacity to host hundreds of people, and while there is an elevator that   
can take someone there, apparently no one thought the third floor had needed it. 

Or at least, that’s what it feels like every time Gen climbs up the stairs. It has become a routine for him now. Each time he is invited in events held here, he takes a breather by going up to the third floor. It's like checking in with an old friend, making sure nothing has changed and waving goodbye until next time. 

He passes by the unmanned music library situated at the front of the hall, the one with the damp walls and empty shelves that have been left alone to gather dust. The music rooms after it lie with their doors wide open, black chasms that are only brightened by the light of the moon. No one would bother to turn on the lights on a floor that's never used. It's a little spooky, but Gen has entered shabbier places in order to unravel their mysteries.

He isn't an avid mystery seeker–not like those groups that gear up every other week and film their explorations before posting them on social media–but he dwells in them happily when he comes across them. 

He's strolling down the hall, across the empty rooms and foggy windows, when he hears music playing. He stops in his tracks, frowning. Usually there's no one up here and it's a safe place for a little avoidance of social interaction. But today's event is crowded-the most crowded one he has ever been to-so maybe there is another soul in dire need of a safe haven. With the orchestra playing downstairs, no one will hear the piano notes coming from a floor with no entry allowed for guests. 

Whoever it is in the music room is warming up with Chopin. Appropriate since the hosts of the event are enthusiasts of Romantic Music. Maybe the player isn't used to audiences and was glad to find an empty place to practice. It’s actually quite funny when the person is playing along smoothly and hits an off key. 

“Those instruments need tuning,” the person-a guy if he goes by the voice-comments and Gen silently agrees even though he cannot tell the difference. All equipment up here has been in need of maintenance for a long time now. It's no wonder that the piano is not in good shape. The guy continues playing anyway. 

“Hmm, not so bad.” The guy says as he moves to another piece. It must be an original one because Gen doesn't recognise it as any of the great classics. It moves him too in a way, compels him forward until he is standing close to the door of the music room, close enough to peer inside without being noticed. The windows are dirty, but occupy the largest part of the walls, allowing ample space for moonlight to seep through. It's enough light for Gen to see the features of the person. 

He knows that person. He knows, he knows him, because really who wouldn't? Science prodigy, son of an astronaut, Ishigami Senku. 

Gen has read many articles about him, from experiments to victories in competitions. He has heard his father speak of him in radio shows and TV programs with pride evident in his voice and eyes. It makes sense that he is here, either thanks to his status or his father's. Perhaps both. 

He is suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to say something, to request a piece to be played or start a casual small talk, but that would mean that the music will have to stop. Or, in the worst case scenario, end. Ishigami Senku might not appreciate his alone time being interrupted, especially since the third floor is unofficially for those who chase after privacy. Gen wouldn't be happy if someone breached his peaceful strolling. So he stands where he is and remains quiet as the notes begin to reach their crescendo. He watches the pianist's profile, his unusual hairstyle and red eyes focused on the tiles beneath his fingertips. 

The phone is out of his pocket before he can register the action. It doesn't have the best camera, but it's good enough for a decent-looking picture. Images of scientists are scarce after all. Their achievements are more important than their looks. Or that, on top of everything else, they are outstanding pianists. 

He waits for the piece to finish before taking his leave. 

Downstairs the party is still in full swing. The orchestra is delivering an excellent performance, fitting for both dancing and just listening, but it all sounds inadequate in Gen's ears. He smiles at the waiter who hands him a glass of champagne and leans against a somewhat secluded wall. He turns on his phone and finds the picture he took, enlarging and cropping until Senku is the only focus. He tries not to mess up the quality too much. 

It would be a problem if he were to ruin it. Going up there just to snap another one is too close to stalker behavior for his liking. He doesn't even know why he took one in the first place. 

Maybe it's because it looked nice. A pianist playing with the moon as his light. A dusty room only partially illuminated by nature rather than human technology. The notes breaking the stillness and quiet, surpassing the muffled noises of the party. A secret aspect to a person's life, a rarity in a world where few things can remain truly hidden. 

He wonders when Senku learnt to play. Did he take intensive lessons as a kid, or a few practice videos and a few books were enough for him to understand how to play? Gen won't be surprised if the second hypothesis is the truth. It's an easy thing to find out. He only has to wait for Senku to come back downstairs and ask. Although asking straightforwardly would be awkward. And suspicious. 

That's the reason why, when Senku finally appears, he decides not to approach. It's not because an overly excited guy and a softly smiling girl run up to him the moment he reaches the base of the stairs. It's not because they are not alone anymore. 

There will be other chances, he thinks as he finishes his drink and saves a copy of the picture just in case. 

The world is big, but it's also small and there for anyone to explore it. He imagines another gathering, in another place, another time. He will be there. Senku will be too. With his friends or without them. Gen doesn't care. He will wait for the moment. The moment when Senku will seek enjoyment in solitude. And at that time he won't hesitate. 

The time never comes. Actually, it does, but no one is there to experience it. Ignoring, as always, the world's state, it passes by as cities turn into forests, oceans fall and rise, stars die and are birthed in explosions no one can observe. Few humans are awake, free from the stone prisons that are both a blessing and a curse, but Gen is not one of them. 

When he wakes up, it's to the sight of a man that wants to preserve this wild, new world. It's to the promise of safety, a request to assist a greater goal, even if Gen is certain that hesitation or a refusal won't be kindly accepted. Finally, it's to a mission that reminds him of that night literal ages ago. 

His phone is gone. Buried, disassembled, completely destroyed. Some-when. Somewhere. But the memory isn't. It comes back to him in bits and pieces as he traverses the forest towards the village. 

Towards Senku. 

Another chance. Another place. Another time. 

It's finally here. 

It may not be how he expected it-so few things are-but it's the only chance he has. The only one he's going to get. Tsukasa is not a patient man. Nor does he have doubts easily. If he wants to confirm Senku's death, then that means that he is alive. Gen is sure of it, even if he is uncertain of the report he has to eventually make. He will have to be careful if he doesn't want to end up dead instead. 

There are no pianos now or gatherings or any formalities that need to be upheld. The rules have radically changed and adaptability is a skill Gen excels at. He'd rather not adapt to Tsukasa's Empire though. But that's something only he needs to know. For now. 

He can see the smoke from the village now, rising up in lazy, gray waves and dissipating in the bright morning sky. There is also a smell… Familiar, but somehow not at the same time. Like someone has taken a standard recipe and changed a basic ingredient. Ramen, he concludes with certainty as the distance between him and his goal shortens. If they have ramen, then maybe there's also… 

Well. He can't be that optimistic. Ramen is a simple dish to cook and eat. No one would urgently need to make cola. Maybe if he asks, Senku will make it for him. 

If only he asks.


	3. Stargazing

Technically, it is a first date, but it is hard to call it one. 

Years into their friendship, they have had  
hundreds of meals together, been to dozens upon dozens of restaurants, but none as nice as the one they are in now. Gen had specifically chosen it because of the glass ceiling on the top floor that allowed a perfect view of the sky and the city below. 

Crossing the line of intimacy had almost been an accident; a true “one thing led to another” cliché that really seemed as though one minute, they were talking quietly on Senku's couch, then, they were kissing on Senku's couch, and suddenly, Gen found himself waking up in Senku's bed the next morning. They never spoke about it, but it happened again, and then a third time, and the fourth time it happened Senku had asked, seeing as though Gen was agreeable to sharing a shower with him, if he would also maybe be agreeable to having dinner sometime. Gen said yes.

Their first ever, formal date, starts off like a typical, getting-to-know-you date that anyone might have. He buys a black suit for the occasion and a matching tie along with one of those pins to keep it out of the way. He goes through his collection of perfumes and settles for one that gives off a light scent of vanilla. There isn't much he can do about his hair without assistance, so he brushes them in his usual hairstyle and leaves them be. Senku likes playing with them anyway. 

His date shows up at his door with flowers–an assortment of purple and magenta lilacs that he quickly puts in a vase. He looks like he looks on any average day, except, for once, there is a jacket instead of his lab coat. His hair is down, front bangs tied on the back of his head with a hair clip to not obscure his vision, he is freshly shaved and his cologne is obvious, but not overpowering. 

It is easier than Gen thought it would be. There is no awkwardness, no lapses of silence just because they are now something more than friends. They take a taxi to the restaurant and Gen chuckles at the amazement in Senku's eyes when the stars greet him from beyond the glass. It's a perfect night for stargazing. 

He had to pull quite a few favors in order to make a reservation at short notice, but the small smile on Senku's lips as he looks at the stars makes it worth it. Gen knows that his boyfriend—a term that they have started using recently and he is certain he will never tire of—is seeing more than others do when looking at the sky. The difference doesn't lie only on his knowledge. His father is still up there after all, circling the Earth and observing a world beyond humanity's reach. 

Their dinner together is the same, if not better, than before. 

They are half-way through dessert and Senku is recounting the process of his latest experiment, when Gen realises that his mind has wandered. It isn't that the story isn't interesting, it is, but he starts watching the way Senku's mouth moves and it suddenly seems absolutely unreal to him that those lips have touched nearly every square inch of his body and how did he live until now without knowing what it feels like? 

“Mentalist? Gen?”

He blinks, gaze shifting to rest on Senku's eyes. “Yes, Senku-chan?”

Senku smiles as he tilts his head to the side, causing his hair to follow the motion. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to bed.”

Gen slowly presses his fork into the chocolate cake in front of him and takes a piece into his mouth, sliding it off slowly with his teeth. “How am I looking at you?” he asks, licking chocolate from his lips as he watches Senku's adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat.

“Like there isn’t much difference between me and that chocolate cake,” he answers, running a finger along the inside of his collar as though it is suddenly too tight.

He laughs lightly as they both sit back and regard each other quietly. There is a charge in the air and it raises goosebumps on Gen's arms. He doesn't know that Senku is in the same boat, watching him in the starlight, his heart picking up pace every time he smiles.

Suddenly, Gen leans forward, putting his elbows on the table and joining his fingers in a serious manner. “Senku-chan,” he says, quietly. “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it out of the door.”

Senku shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Maybe you should talk to me more about all your family tree right now. With plenty of detail.”

Gen raises his brow and Senku shifts again. On an impulse that he didn’t even know he possessed, he pulls the linen napkin from his lap and sets it down on the table next to his plate. He stands, smoothing his hand over his suit to straighten it. 

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table once as he holds Senku's gaze for a moment or two. 

Trusting their familiarity with each other he turns and takes the long way through the tables, dodging a few rushing waiters on his way. He had been in the bathroom earlier when they’d first arrived at the restaurant. There are three stalls, floor to ceiling wooden doors on each. No one will ever know.

Gen opens the door to the bathroom and checks each stall door. All of them are empty. He leans over the sink, curling his fingers over the porcelain bowl and staring at himself in the mirror in the dim, orange light. His hair is a bit tousled from the wind. There is a barely noticeable chocolate stain on his tie. He wets it a bit to get the worst part off. Not that it matters. There won't be much use for a tie if they actually do this. There could be a use for it someday though. 

There is a soft tapping on the bathroom door and Gen opens it, just enough so Senku can slip inside. He notices his suit jacket is off. They stare at each other for mere moments before Gen backs him into one of the stalls and locks the door. Senku melts instantly into his kisses, moaning softly as Gen's body presses his against the wall. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been aroused since he'd shown up at his door all dressed up just for him, but now it is almost painful. 

“You smell so, so good,” Senku mutters, dragging his mouth down Gen's neck, leaving marks on his way. Gen can't help but smile as he makes quick work of  
zippers and buttons. The scientist groans when he reaches inside his boxers and frees his erection. 

“Hurry,” Senku whispers in-between kisses as he shifts and changes their positions. 

“Slow down,” Gen murmurs as his back hits the wall. 

“Later.” Senku shakes his head, pushing Gen's expensive pants down and caressing the exposed skin. Gen buries his fingers in his soft hair, freeing them from their binds in the process. “I want you.”

“Senku-chan,” he sighs as Senku sinks into him. He cups the back of his thighs and Gen wraps his legs around his waist, sliding up the wall as he thrusts into him. 

He has one hand curled at the back of Senku's neck and the other on his cheek, thumb under his chin so he can hold his head up to look at him. Senku's eyes are half-open and his lips are parted invitingly. He licks his bottom lip and Senku groans an obscenity into his mouth.

“Harder,” Gen whispers to him. “I want to f-”

Senku puts a hand over his mouth as the outside door to the bathroom opens. He pauses mid-thrust, beads of sweat forming at his temples as Gen clenches his thighs and pulls him deeper purely by accident and by reflex. The doorknob on their stall rattles once and then the next door opens and shuts. Gen's head rolls against the tile wall.

One minute passes, then two. Senku has dropped his forehead to the wall, panting softly. He squirms impatiently and clenches around him again. Senku bites his shoulder to muffle his whimper.

Finally, the toilet flushes next door and the door opens and shuts again. Water runs in the sink for what feels like an interminable amount of time, but stops, and they are alone once more and all is quiet. Senku is close, despite the pause, mostly due to Gen's restlessness and the undulation of his hips and inner muscles.

“So close,” Gen whispers to him. “We’re so close. Almost. Almost.”

“I know.” He resumes his thrusts, increasing his intensity more than his speed.

Gen gives a soft cry, something like a cross between a yelp and a hiccup. He sees stars as he shudders against him. He kisses Senku until he slips out of him and lowers him back to his feet.

“We should have done this earlier,” Senku whispers, nuzzling his face against Gen's and running his hands over his body like the last thing in the world he wants to do is stop touching him. 

“No can do, Senku-chan.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn't have gotten any work done.”

Senku laughs and brings his head down for more kisses. He pulls away first, sucking Gen's bottom lip in his mouth and shaking his head.

“I need to go get cleaned up,” he says. 

“I'll meet you back at the table.”

“I'll pay the check. And then we need to get out of here.”

“Go.”

Senku pushes himself away from the wall and leaves the stall. Gen hears him at the sink and then hears his belt buckle clinging as he rearranges himself. 

Moments later, the door opens and  
closes and he closes his eyes, taking a moment to breathe. He cleans himself up and smooths his hair in the mirror, assessing his reflection for any signs of what had just happened. There are faint marks on his neck, but those can be easily hidden by the collar of his shirt. He smiles at himself and leaves the bathroom. 

A perfect night for stargazing indeed.


	4. Soulmate AU + First Meeting

Weeks.

Days.

Minutes.

Ten minutes and seventeen seconds to be exact.

Senku doesn't know how to feel about that. His whole life he had been watching the countdown on his wrist. Ink black, like a basic starter tattoo. From the moment they were born, people would know how long it would be before they met their soulmate. There were always the rare cases, of course, people born without countdowns, or with countdowns already set to 0:00. When he freed himself from his petrified state, his countdown was still there, but frozen on the number he remembered before the petrification.

It had unfreezed a few days ago, earning a lot of questioning glances from the villagers who had no such markings on their wrists. Neither had they heard of them from the stories passed down to every generation. He had explained the concept of soulmates as simply as he could, but he could not prevent anyone from turning his lesson into a fated love story that survived through the years.

He didn't berate anyone then and he certainly won't do it now, but it's a bit unsettling to hear about his supposed love when he isn't certain of the way his soulmate is going to receive him. The countdown starting again means that his soulmate has been de-petrified. And there's only one person, except for him, who is bringing people back right now. Tsukasa. Needless to say, it won't be a happy meeting if his soulmate shares his ideology and comes looking for trouble.

“Are you nervous?” Kohaku asks as she finishes her second bowl of ramen and eagerly reaches for a third one. She is the only one not serenading him about his soulmate, seemingly noticing his subtle discomfort about the matter. “You don't need to be. If your soulmate is an enemy, I'll beat them up.”

Senku laughs, because even though her words are not the most reassuring, they bring a strong sense of camaraderie and safety. She will live up to them if the need arises.

Still, a part of Senku knows that it's easy for her to say that. She is one of the new generation of humans, the one that is aware of only a brief history of the soulmate occurrence. Admittedly, Senku needs to sit down and put together a much more detailed explanation. He will schedule it for sometime after he makes the cure for Kohaku's sister. It won't be long until he has all the ingredients.

Senku excuses himself from the newly made ramen stand, a sudden tension taking over him. He needs to take a walk in the forest, calm his nerves, gather his thoughts. To not make the first meeting a spectacle for the whole village. He wishes he had a telescope. To see the stars. That would bring some much needed comfort, albeit momentary.

It won't be long now. He can feel it.

His wrist begins to sting the moment he collides with a person who had been walking in his direction.

* * *

Weeks.

Days.

Minutes.

Less than twenty of them to be exact.

Gen's countdown starts running again the moment he is freed from the stone. He doesn't openly start looking around Tsukasa's place for his soulmate, but he does keep an eye out. More and more people are de-petrified every other day with Tsukasa's careful selection. One of them must be the one.

Gen had never been completely sold on the whole soulmates business, in truth. His father had been born without a countdown at all, and his mother’s soulmate had died when they were only eleven years old. Yet, their marriage had been wonderful, although it had its ups and downs from time to time, and they were clearly in love with each other. So, no, Gen doesn't believe that his soulmate is meant to be his everything. Or, his something. They might as well end up being nothing.

But now, as he walks through the forest towards a village with his countdown heading closer and closer to zero, he can't deny that his heart has started racing and  
a newfound sense of excitement threatens to overwhelm him.

He stumbles on a tree root and almost falls on the ground. Okay. He needs to stop thinking about this and focus on the mission.

The mission… The mission is another problem entirely.

It's rather simple, really. He just needs to walk through the forest, go to the village, see if Senku is indeed alive and report back his findings. If only his words wouldn't be responsible for a person's dea-

Something, or someone suddenly collides with him and Gen takes a few steps back to stabilize himself. He barely takes notice of the sting on his wrist as he regards the person in front of him. Ishigami Senku, very much alive with his life unknowingly held in Gen's hands, is rubbing his wrist as he returns the stare.

Silence.

It stretches between them in a natural way, not at all awkward but simply evaluating. Typically, there is nothing for Gen to examine on the surface-he knows who Ishigami Senku is and what he is capable of doing-but he still finds himself entranced by his eyes. The markings the petrification has left behind are set right above them, starting from his eyebrows and stopping in the middle of his forehead.

His life has never been this complicated, Gen thinks as he puts on one of his best smiles. One of the sincere ones for a change. His wrist isn't hurting anymore.

“Hello, Ishigami Senku.”

Senku releases his wrist, revealing the countdown settled at 0:00, and grins.


	5. Supernatural + Modern AU

It is past midnight, the full moon high in the sky and illuminating the world, casting the yard in patterns of light and shadow. All is quiet, save for the occasional car engine that groans as the vehicle passes by.

Senku can’t sleep. He’s exhausted (he’s exhausted a lot these days) but his thoughts won't let him rest.

He sighs and slides the door open to settle cross-legged on the veranda. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine his father, working with his colleagues far away from Earth. It hasn't been long since he departed and Senku is not yet accustomed to the absence. Even when Senku was cooped up in his room, working on this thing or the other for days, Byakuya was always a background noise that made him feel at peace.

There's no one in their house except him now. When he had considered retreating to their house in Takayama, a traditional Japanese residence Byakuya inherited from his grandfather, for the duration of the school break, Taiju and Yuzuriha had looked so devastated at the aspect of him being alone _and_ away from them. Taiju had even cried. A lot.

They had let him go eventually. They always do. With the promise to meet up again of course.

Suddenly there’s a scratching noise, like claws on dirt, that snaps him out of his thoughts and takes his eyes away from the sky. It’s familiar, rather than alarming, and Senku feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’re back,” he whispers, opening his eyes. The dog (or wolf, even after all these years Senku cannot be sure) pads towards him, black eyes glinting in the moonlight and tongue hanging lazily out of its mouth. It settles down beside him, lying its head on his leg.

Senku runs his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. “My friends would like you,” he murmurs quietly. “Maybe I should give you as a present to one of them.”

There is no telling that he'll be able to do so though. The dog, like every other stray he has taken care of for a while, comes whenever it wants to, and Senku doesn't want to lock it inside the house. It's not a starving or sick animal that needs immediate care. A few snacks and cuddles are enough to satisfy it.

Ever since Senku can remember coming to this house for vacation-and he can remember a lot-this dog has always been a frequent visitor. Coming and going and coming again. Like clockwork. He had asked the neighbors one summer if it came when he and his father were absent. Interestingly the answer had been no.

The dog tilts its head and whines softly at him. Senku sighs again and moves backwards until his back is resting against the sliding door. He receives a wag of the tail and then the dog is curling up beside him, warm back pressing against his side. It's cute. Taiju would melt at the sight of it.

Senku tentatively adjusts his position and leans down so that he’s using the dog’s back as a pillow. He’s isn't wary, not like he was at first, when he didn't know the dog and his father had grabbed him for an emergency visit to the doctor _because you shouldn't lie on stray animals, Senku, they have diseases!_ The dog's tail wags lazily as he curls up and closes his eyes.

An hour before sunrise, the dog stirs and nudges him awake. Senku watches it disappear into the morning mist before heading inside. Time for breakfast, and then science.

* * *

Gen is lost.

He’s not sure how it happened; he was on his way back to the pack when he’d taken a turn down a back alley to avoid the crowd surrounding what looked like some sort of collision involving a bike and a cabbage stand. The next thing he knew, he was standing in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

A rich neighborhood, from the looks of it. The houses are massive, well-maintained residences that must have survived quite a few ordeals through the years. What a history each one of them must have!

“Turn left in ten meters,” says the navigation app's robotic voice. Gen frowns down at the screen of his phone, at the various lines that make up the town's map, and then looks up towards where it’s indicating.

“There’s no road there,” he mutters, shifting on his feet in frustration. “There’s just. A dead end.” With one hand he bangs on the phone (gently, of course) and says, “Why don’t you work?” He must be the first werewolf to get lost in his own territory. Perhaps if he waits until night falls and the streets empty, he can-

“Are you okay?”

Gen startles a bit and turns quickly towards the voice. “What? Oh, yes I’m-”

Their eyes meet and the words die in his mouth. The boy standing on the veranda of the house behind him is watching him with one eyebrow quirked, and what looks like a box filled with laboratory equipment carried in his arms. Tubes, thermometers and the upper part of a microscope protrude from its uncapped top.

He's clearly waiting for an answer, but Gen cannot answer him with the windstorm raging in his head.

This is the first time he has seen him. In his human form, that is. He's different from such an angle, more approachable and yet not. Definitely more handsome. Gen should really not be doing this.

“Um...,” says Gen eloquently.

The boy’s eyebrow raises higher. “What?”

“Nothing!” Gen smiles and waves his hand dismissively in the air, almost dropping his phone in the process. “It’s nothing. I’m just…lost.”

“Oh,” says the boy, walking toward him. He stops for a moment to carefully set the box down with an oof and then grabs Gen's phone without waiting for permission.

He gets instructions. He finds his way to familiar territory, and consequently home. But Gen isn’t thinking about which road to take or whether to turn right or left. He’s not thinking about the impressive architecture of the houses around him or the relative uselessness of the mapping app on his phone.

He thinks about the red-eyed boy that has been his only human friend through the years.

* * *

He's being hunted.

It's been a long time since the last time this happened. The scar running down under his left eye is proof of his survival, proof of how close death had come.

He is older now. He’s been careful. He’s never hurt anyone. The day he joined the pack Tsukasa had said that as long as he stayed hidden, no one would notice. He is small, small enough to almost pass for a dog, and he does not wander much.

So he should have been safe. Why isn’t he safe?

He only wanted to go to the house. The house with the red-eyed boy that always waited for him outside. He knows his name. He has known it for a long time. But he couldn't just mention that when they accidentally met in broad daylight. He hadn't mentioned much of anything really. Just a heartfelt thank you and a rushed good-bye that earned him a chuckle that reverberated through his ears until he turned the corner.

There are enemies on all sides. The men are shouting at him with torches and guns and knives. He can't hear what they’re saying, not really, but single words float into his mind and stay there. Words like monster and hunt and kill.

Blood trickles down his leg, matting the thick black and white fur. He whines softly and frantically looks for an escape, hoping against hope that the moon that had led them to him will take pity and show him a way out.

There. A gap between the men. One of them is drinking from a flask and the other is chastising him. They’re distracted. He can-

He moves, as fast as he’s able with his leg in the state that it is. He’s always had a high pain tolerance, so his fastest at this point is still pretty fast.

The shouting increases. Bullets pierce the night, and he yelps as one flies past his face close enough to draw blood. But he keeps running, darting in between lamp posts and shadows until he has lost them in the alleyways.

The birds are starting to sing. The sky is turning to violet. Somewhere deep down, he knows he must return home, but he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know where. He is in too much pain to think.

Some instinct inside him says, _go there. Tonight, you go there._

And so he does.

The road yields into a yard. Beyond the decorative vegetation there is a veranda, and on the veranda is a boy. The boy, with his gentle touch and his crimson, red eyes.

He knows the boy. The boy is safe.

He whines and limps towards the safe haven that has accompanied him for the longest time.

There’s a noise of alarm when the boy sees him, eyes growing larger in his face. He’s talking, words that don’t quite register except hurt.

He stops halfway through the yard, unable to move further, ants crawling under his skin. The boy is coming towards him, but something is wrong, something other than the wounds dripping blood onto the earth.

A sliver of sun appears over the horizon and there is a sudden moment of clarity. He thinks, _oh_ , and then, **no**.

He growls at the boy. When that doesn’t work, he barks at him, loud and harsh. _Stay back._

The boy stops. The ants are swarming, the itch is growing, and then he is changing.

He’s never had a transformation outside before. He’s always at home by that time, safely hidden from the human eye. What's more normal than transforming in front of your own pack? He's never cared for the process either, those few seconds that his two natures overlap and interchange, but now he does.

There’s flashes of human thought intermingled with lupine instincts. There are green trees and brown grass and wide, red eyes.

Gen comes back to himself beneath a cloudless orange sky. He opens his eyes and curls his fingers in the dirt and shivers against the cold of the early morning.

“Where-”

His tongue stills when the eyes he looks up into blink at him with the color of blood in their depths.

Where is he?

Who is-

_Oh._

Now he remembers.

* * *

Senku is staring.

He knows he’s staring.

He can’t help it.

The boy is looking up at him with wide black eyes, the eyes of the dog that had failed to visit last night. His face is framed by dirt-smudged strands, black and white like Senku knows so well.

He’s also naked and bleeding onto the dirt.

“You’re a werewolf?” asks Senku, instead of doing anything useful. The boy sits up, pulling his knees tight to his chest, and nods without making eye contact. He looks at the house, the yard, anywhere but him. As if he's trying to find a way to escape.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice is lighter than Senku had imagined. “I’m sorry.”

Senku tries to muffle all the questions in his head and focus on the important part of the situation. There's someone injured in his house. Something must be done about it. Definitely not in a hospital. His experience from treating Taiju's injuries will come in handy.

“Why are you sorry?”

The boy looks up at that, pulling his eyebrows together on his forehead as if he didn't expect Senku to talk to him. “Because I’m a-” he gestures to himself vaguely. “And I-” He looks away again, hands curled tight around his calves. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“What happened?”

There’s a tremor across the boy’s shoulders and when he next speaks his voice is full of tears. “Humans. I don’t know how they found me. I don’t know why they were…” He trails off as the blood continues to run hot and sticky from his cheek and thigh. “I’m sorry.”

He looks so small. Senku thinks of dreamless nights and warm bodies pressed together. He thinks of the disappointment he feels every time the dog-werewolf-does not show up.

He thinks of how he waits all night anyway. Just in case.

Senku moves forward and kneels down onto the dirt. He reaches out with gentle fingers and lifts the boy’s chin.

Tears run hot and wet over his fingers. The boy watches him with attentive eyes, despite the tension radiating from his shoulders. He sheds his lab coat and drapes it over him, waits until his shoulders relax and his tears dry.

He moves his hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s go inside,” he says. “No one else is home right now. We need to do something about those wounds.”

The boy nods and leans into his hand. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” says Senku, and smiles a small, sad smile. “It’s only fair, after all you’ve done for me.”

The boy raises his eyes and smiles back. It’s a small thing, trembling at the edges, but it is like the sun rising.

“Okay,” whispers the boy, and that is how it begins.


	6. Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of previous chapter.

There is nothing better than coming home and finding Gen on their bedroom, leafing through a book beneath the blankets. There is nothing better than joining him, cuddling up to him until his natural warmth envelops him. Gen sighs, as always, but he doesn't complain when he sets the book aside and maneuvers them in a more comfortable position. 

He is more or less lying on top of Senku with his face buried in his neck, where the mating mark stands out from their marriage a few months ago. It will forever remain there. Never to go away. 

It had been a small ceremony. Just them in formal suits and brand new rings. Taiju and Yuzuriha hand-in-hand in matching colors. Senku's father watching from a tablet in Yuzuriha's hands. Friends he and Senku had made together over the years. 

“Are you smelling me?” Senku asks, brushing his hand over Gen's hair and playing with the ends. 

Gen doesn't say anything, just buries himself deeper into his neck, determined to continue with his reminiscence. 

“Shall I take your silence as a yes?”

Slowly Gen brings his eyes up to meet Senku's, aware that they have lost their human veil. He is used to maintain an in-between appearance at home, an action Senku had encouraged from the day they had left Takayama together. Tsukasa had banished him from the pack. He had left undisturbed, knowing there's a better place to go. 

“I always do.” Senku's scent is all over the house, mingling easily with his own. 

“Will you get tired of it someday?” Senku wonders with the gears of his beautiful mind turning. “Get used to it, I mean, until you don't notice it.”

Gen doesn't have to think about the answer. “No.” He brushes back the one strand that always manages to flop in front of Senku's face. “Never.”

“Hm. The experiment is still ongoing.” Senku smiles, and Gen instantly forgives him for referring to their marriage as such. 

Science is indissolubly connected with Senku's life. It's part of what makes their home feel right. Being part wolf means that he feels everything so much deeply, and he knows that Senku's happiness thrives when he immerses himself in his work. It had always been this way. Even when Senku was a child, showing him the rockets he made by releasing them in Takayama's sky. 

Senku moves his free hand, caressing Gen's hair until he finds that specific spot behind his ear. He can feel the vibrations from his chest as he scratches. 

“Senku-chan,” Gen whines, even as his body betrays him by burying itself further into Senku's embrace. “Stop.”

“I love hearing you purr.”

“It's embarrassing.”

“It’s cute.” Senku tugs at Gen's hair, making him look up and brings their lips together in a soft kiss. It elicits a low growl from Gen's throat that has Senku chuckling mid-way and Gen blushing despite it having happened before. 

He looks down at Senku. At his bright, red eyes and tousled hair. At the wedding band around his finger. The mark peeking out from his white shirt. The smile playing at his lips. There are cuter things in this world, in his opinion. 

He isn't afraid to make his thoughts known. There had been a time when there were many things to be scared of, but not anymore. Such instances seem distant to him now, as if he is recalling them as a bystander rather than a participant. 

“Yeah? I think you’re much cuter, Senku-chan.”

It's Senku's turn to avert his eyes and blush, a lovely pink color that matches the shade of his eyes. He doesn't get to appreciate the sight for long because Senku pulls him down for another kiss, much more intense and promising than the previous one. 

“Only for you,” Senku whispers when they part for breath. 

“Of course, Senku-chan. As you say.”


	7. Free Day

“So, how are you doing?”

“Hm? What?”

Gen hadn’t realised he’d been doing it-the staring. He supposed he’d lost himself in the way the morning light shone through Senku's hair. The quiet, fastidious way he had adjusted his clothes before stretching, and now with equal fastidiousness was putting on his shoes and trying to settle his hair into a semblance of order.

“I asked,” Senku explained, sending him a sidelong glance. “If you are feeling any better.”

“Oh.”

The cold.

_His_ cold.

Right.

Gen untangled his limbs from the thick blanket and stood, relieved to find that the previous night's dizziness had gone away. He watched as Senku rummaged through his lab, reaching for vials and pouring their contents in a bowl before mixing them together to make a last dose of terribly bitter medicine.

Soon enough Senku presented the bowl to him, filled with an olive-green liquid, and pressed it insistently into his hands when he hesitated. Gen tried not to think about the taste as he sighed and drank it in a single gulp. It was easier-and far more pleasant-to think about Senku sleeping next to him all night, staying close just in case he needed something. It made the medicine a bit sweeter.

This wasn't the time to say such a thing, or do something far bolder. Gen was willing to keep his patience, keep his distance, and didn't even mind that Senku barely glanced over at him from where he had already started the day's work. Senku's fingers brushed against his hair, tucking a stray strand behind an ear, and Gen told himself that drawing breath at that particular moment had nothing to do with anything. Nothing at all.

“Can I help you with anything, Senku-chan?” Gen asked cheerfully, not wanting for an answer to take a seat beside him.

“Yeah, sure, ” Senku replied, not looking up as he pushed some papers Gen's way and started explaining today's goals. Gen listened closely, even as he paid more attention to Senku's mouth rather than the notes in front of them.

_If only he knew._


End file.
